The Virgin and the Cardinal
by RoaOAI
Summary: Sherlock doesn't have Friends. She's what he calls an Ally against his 'Arch-Nemesis'.  T for drug refrences?
1. On a Rooftop or The Cardinal

FIRST

He remembered when he'd met her. He'd been standing on the edge of a rooftop, barely seventeen and bored out of his mind. The people were boring, the school was boring, and his brother had taken away the only things that made it interesting. Sherlock wanted, no needed the needles back. He needed the rush they gave him, the place of enhanced attention. If he didn't get them, he would go mad.

So, in an effort to make the boring old world go away and the needles come back, Sherlock was standing on the edge of the roof, looking down at the traffic and scratching his healing arm absently.

That was when she spoke.

"You can't fly, you know."

He turned, with a start, and stared at the unusual girl who sat beside him. She was small, dressed in ill-fitting clothes, and she smelled slightly of cigarette smoke. She also had the brightest red hair Sherlock had ever seen. It practically glowed under the sun, a true red with no hint of orange to it at all. She looked to be a few years younger than he, and she was sitting on the edge beside him, also looking down.

"What?"

"You can't fly. Only birds and airplanes can do that. Humans just aren't made for it."

He liked that she'd said humans, not people. Sherlock rarely felt like a person, and those around him were always telling him what people, real people, did and did not do.

"Birds. Huh." He glanced back out at the traffic, and sat down beside her.

"Yes. Like a Cardinal. That's what they call me, you know. The Cardinal." She glanced at him, and he noticed her eyes were a dark, rich brown.

"Sherlock." He said, because it seemed like the right thing to do.

They talked up there for several hours. He ranted about how very dull the world was, and she told him of her life, one on the streets, which wasn't full of adventure, but was not boring by any stretch of the imagination.

Over the next few weeks, throughout his recovery, she would meet with him there, and slowly they became what other people would call 'friends.' He brought her food, sometimes, an old sleeping bag once, and in exchange she told him stories about the streets. One day, for a pack of gum, she showed him where she slept at night and introduced him to her 'family.' Young teenagers, all, who listened to her and did as she asked. He wondered once or twice why she lead them, but never got an answer, just a little smile and a flick of the eyes.

When Mycroft found out he'd befriended a homeless girl, he was livid.

Sherlock was not allowed to see her, to talk to her, to interact with her at all.

On the rooftop the next day, Sherlock explained. He still didn't understand.

Cardinal did.

"He's afraid I'll get you addicted again."

"But that's crazy. You try to get other people off them, not do them yourself."

"Would he believe that?"

"No, probably not."


	2. 221B Baker Street or Birdseed

SECOND

Watson had just gotten in and put away the groceries when the doorbell rang. He was on his way to get it when Sherlock checked the clock and sprang to his feet.

"Sit down, John, I'll get it. Did you grab the groceries I asked for?"

John nodded, and went to his laptop.

"They're on the counter."

"Lovely, thanks."

About once a week Sherlock would request an extra liter of milk, some eggs and chocolate, and five packs of gum. These things always seemed to vanish from the cupboard, and so this time John kept his ears open.

Sherlock grabbed the bag of extras and went downstairs to the back door. He opened it, and said calmly to whoever was outside.

"Why do you come, looking for birdseed?"

John raised an eyebrow, and snuck closer to the top of the stairs. The voice that responded was young, with an odd accent.

"I've got a little Cardinal of me own to feed."

There was a rustle as the plastic bag was handed from one to the other, and then the door swung shut.


	3. 221B Baker Street or An Ally in Need

THIRD

It was midnight. Someone was downstairs, banging on the back door. John got up and was on his way down when the door opened and he heard Sherlock mutter a curse.

"Bring him up here."

John backed up, away from the door, and stared as Sherlock helped carry in a young boy who was plainly dealing with a drug overdose. On the boy's other side was a girl of about twenty with brilliantly red hair, who was swearing under her breath.

"Damn it, Mark, you were doing so well, why'd you have to go and shoot up again, huh?" the boy didn't answer.

That was when Sherlock noticed him.

"John." His face went bloodless, as though he'd been caught doing something very, very bad.

"Sherlock. What is going on?" The girl had put down her half of the boy and was quietly dragging things out of the way, so there was a spot on the floor as John spoke.

"I- I will explain, later. Will you help us, now?" Their eyes met, and there was something very strange in Sherlock's face, as though he needed reassurance.

John nodded, very slightly, and Sherlock turned to the girl and explained that he was a doctor. Her eyes widened a little, and something oddly like hope appeared in them.

"Good. We've had to bury too many recently."

The boy groaned a little, and twitched, and they were all off, setting about to try and save his life.

The boy, Mark, was sleeping. John was sure he'd survive this. The redheaded girl was speaking quietly to Sherlock when John came over.

"—Thank everything the Irregulars still knew how to find you. I wasn't sure he was going to make it." She turned to John. "Thank you Mr…?"

"Dr. Watson. John, actually. I'm Sherlock's roommate." He added, and she nodded.

"Call me the Cardinal, John."

.


	4. The Graveyard or Goodbye, my Ally

FOURTH

John went to visit the grave every so often, about once every two weeks, and this week when he arrived there was someone there already. Her bright red hair was rumpled, her head bowed as she sat in front, talking to him.

"It's been harder, lately, ever since the birdseed stopped. Oh, hell, I knew never to depend on it, but the gum was nice. I miss talking to you on the rooftop, and everything. I don't like being alone, Sherlock, even when you weren't supposed to be my friend I knew you were There."

She sniffed, and a tear ran down her cheek.

"I told you that you couldn't fly, damn it. That's for birds and Airplanes, not humans. Why did you have to try anyway?"


End file.
